


had they not heard of love

by Anonymous



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, Chair Sex, Dom/sub, Humiliation, Idiots in Love, M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Roleplay, post-159
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23452387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Holed up in their Scottish safehouse, Jon and Martin have plenty of time to play pretend.Kink meme prompt: Kinder and more understanding s4 (or post s4) Jon like... roleplaying as s1 Jon during sex? Like, for the humiliation kink. He wears disdainful very well, okay.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 23
Kudos: 420
Collections: Anonymous, Rusty Kink





	had they not heard of love

"Oh Jon, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise you were recording, I'll-"

"No, Martin. Don't leave." It was further between the kitchen table and the front door of the cottage than it had been between his desk and office door back at the Institute, but he could make believe well enough. He pushed aside the newspaper that was acting as a statement and crooked a finger at Martin. "I'd like to have a word."

"Um. Of course." Martin came over to him slowly, emanating that nervous energy that he'd always had in those early days, and went towards the other side of the table. Jon shook his head.

"Come over here." He pushed his chair back and looked up at Martin as he stopped beside him, trembling slightly, and Jon schooled his face into the most bored, dispassionate look he could muster. It felt odd to be like this, when just that morning he'd been warm in Martin's arms, kissing him and telling him he loved him, but if this was something Martin wanted he was more than happy to play along. "This isn't the first time you've been disruptive to my work, is it Martin?"

Martin blushed, and looked down at the floor. "No."

"It's getting a little tiresome if I'm honest. I'm very busy, and if you can't be useful to me then I'm not sure I can justify keeping you on."

Martin shuffled his feet. "I- I can do better Jon, I promise."

"I don't think I can put a lot of stock in your promises." He sighed, maybe a little too dramatically, then put a contemplative hand to his chin. "But maybe there's something you could do instead to… assist me."

Martin glanced up then and Jon met his eyes, full of need and arousal, enough to send the same prickling down his own spine. "What is it?"

Jon wet his lips, feeling himself growing harder as he said, "Get on your knees for me, Martin."

Martin dropped perfectly, and heat curled low in Jon's belly. It was… nice to order Martin around, to see how well and how eagerly he obeyed. It made Jon feel focused, sharper, like all the ragged and monstrous parts of himself could still be pulled together into purpose, under his control. He turned the chair around, wishing it was actually the tall-backed leather chair he'd had in the office, that he could swivel around in like a Bond villain. Martin would have liked that.

"I'm afraid that you completely ruined that statement, Martin. I might have time to start again, but you've made me _terribly_ distracted." He ran a hand over his cock, watching Martin watch him do it, and then started thumbing open his fly. "I think for once you should sort out the problems you've caused."

Martin crawled up between his legs and eagerly started pushing Jon's boxers aside to get his cock out, letting out a little moan exactly like he had the actual first time he'd seen it. Jon wondered absently what other fantasies Martin might want to act out in future, given how very committed he was to this one. He tangled a hand in Martin's hair, resisting the urge to pet it like he usually would and giving it a sharp tug instead.

"Get on with it, Martin."

"Yes, Jon," Martin gasped, and Jon pushed his cock into his open mouth.

If Martin had a fault as a lover it was a tendency to be too eager, too hasty, as if Jon's cock was some sort of scarce resource that might be snatched away from him at any moment. It felt perfect right then, though; Martin sucking him messily, desperately, hoping for a pardon Jon was unlikely to give. Jon leaned back but kept his hand firm in Martin's hair, guiding his movements and giving him the odd little tug of correction.

"There we go," he said, letting out a little hiss at the slightest contact of Martin's teeth. "So you _can_ be useful after all." Martin whimpered, sinking down so Jon's cock was pressing at his throat. "Maybe it would be better to leave the archive work to the others… you can just stay here and do what you're good at, Martin."

Martin whimpered again and Jon looked back down, eyes flickering over him for any signs of real distress. He let himself push ever so slightly at the edges of Martin's mind and felt almost bowled over by his arousal, and the knowledge that, down where Jon couldn't see, Martin was palming himself in his trousers. 

That definitely wouldn't do. Perhaps there was something else they could do that would help Martin focus better. Jon let himself rock into Martin's mouth a few more times before pulling him off with a sharp jerk on his hair. Martin looked up at him with wide eyes and red, swollen lips, his tongue lolling out like he was desperate for another taste of Jon. Fuck. _Fuck_. Jon swallowed hard and worked on channeling his deepest wells of disdain.

"Not too bad," he said, tipping Martin's head back slightly and leaning forward to loom over him as he released his grip. "But I think I have another job for you. Take your clothes off for me."

Martin gasped and nodded vigorously, fumbling his t-shirt up over his head with one hand while grabbing at his belt with the other. Jon sat back and watched him, both delighted and a little exasperated as Martin struggled in his own enthusiasm. When he reached behind himself, still kneeling, to untie his shoes, Jon started tapping his foot.

"I don't have all day, Martin."

"Sorry," Martin gasped, and kicked his shoes off, and almost fell over in his haste to get the rest of his clothes off, and then he was kneeling at Jon's feet completely naked, his cock pink and leaking against his stomach. Jon felt a little mad with want, looking at him, and reached out a hand to cup his face.

"Come up here and sit on my lap," he said, trying not to let his tone be too soft. Martin straddled him eagerly and Jon hesitated a moment before pulling him in for a swift, hard kiss and trailing his hand down Martin's spine. He caressed Martin's arse for a moment and then slid his fingers towards his hole, and suppressed a little gasp when he found it slick and opening easily for him. Martin _had_ wanted a little time to himself to prepare before they started.

"Well," he said coolly, watching Martin's eyelashes flutter as he circled his rim with a fingertip. "That's very interesting, isn't it Martin? Did you come here and interrupt me _hoping_ that I would fuck you? Or do you just go about like this at work all the time, waiting for someone to bend you over the furniture?"

"Not- not anyone," Martin said, and he looked away, face flushing. "Just you."

He'd decided not to call Martin a whore or a slut mostly because just the thought of saying those words out loud to another human being was too embarrassing to bear, but he felt vindicated in that shame-inspired decision. Martin wouldn't do this for just anyone. Martin was his, _only_ his, only wanted him. And there was something both extremely arousing and weirdly touching about the idea of Martin going about his daily business hoping that Jon would just appear and ravish him somehow.

Jon pressed his finger into Martin's hole, teasing him open a little more. "I appreciate that you want to be useful, but you really have to take more initiative. Unless you just want to be told what to do for your entire life."

" _Oh_ ," Martin gasped, and Jon very much hoped that meant he did want to continue to be told what to do. Jon was certainly enjoying it much more than he'd expected.

"I wouldn't want to let your preparation go to waste, though," he continued. "I'd certainly like to find out if you have any other skills at all." He slid his finger out and grasped Martin's arse in both hands, helping him shift up onto his knees enough for Jon to slide home inside him.

Martin braced his hands against the back of the chair, trembling as he sank down, his eyes glued to Jon's face and his lips parted. Jon dug his fingers into Martin's soft flesh, coaxing him to move.

"That's it, Martin," he said. "That's what you really wanted, isn't it? To think, you were trying so hard to be my assistant when really you're only good for warming my cock."

" _Yes_ ," Martin said, eyes wide and fervent, and Jon kissed him again, biting down on his lip. "Thank you, Jon."

"Don't be presumptuous, Martin. I'm still _very_ distracted."

Martin nodded and started to work his hips harder. He just about had purchase on the chair with his knees, and leant forward onto his hands too, so his cock rubbed against Jon's shirt. Jon felt like he ought to say something- the arsehole persona he was drawing on probably would- but he was getting too much enjoyment out of the feeling, the hot, damp drag of Martin's cockhead against his stomach.

It had rapidly become his favourite thing to watch Martin's face when they fucked; he was so expressive, showing every feeling and sensation even if he didn't have the words for it. It was beautiful. Martin was trying so hard to focus but his eyes were hazy with pleasure, as if the very act of trying to obey was making this even better for him.

Jon found himself stroking and kneading Martin's thighs; he was digging his fingers in more than he'd previously have dared, enough to leave bruises. The cool disinterest he was trying to portray was hard to maintain against just how good it felt to have Martin ride him, but then maybe that was the point. He might have been a bit of a bastard a few years ago but he wasn't _dead_.

"You're definitely- ah- definitely better suited to this, aren't you? I'm almost impressed." he said, coaxing Martin to move a little faster. Martin tipped his head back and let out a moan. "Although with the amount of noise you're making, I wouldn't be surprised if someone came to see what was wrong. You should really lock the door the next time you come here, Martin."

Martin's face went absolutely scarlet but he picked up the pace considerably, head dropping forward to stammer in Jon's ear, "N-next time?"

Jon was close, and could probably pull off the ultimate bastard move of coming and then refusing to let Martin get off too. It was a little bit tempting. But this was ultimately all _for_ Martin; all Jon's harsh words were at his behest, and Jon had the sense that there was one last indulgence he'd enjoy even more.

"I think there should be a next time, don't you? As long as you promise to keep being such a good boy."

Martin groaned and fell forward against Jon's chest, making the chair tilt rather worryingly as he rocked out a messy orgasm all over Jon's shirt. All the self-control in the world couldn't stop Jon wrapping his arms around him, stroking his back and petting his hair gently. It felt almost like an afterthought to thrust up into Martin a few more times until he spilled inside him. Martin had buried his face in Jon's shoulder and Jon kissed his neck and his jaw softly, hands still moving over his back.

"Was- was that okay?" he asked hesitantly, not sure he wanted to probe into Martin's mind for the real answer. Martin huffed against his collar.

"Yeah- yeah. It was great." He trembled a little and then winced. "I made such a mess. I'm sorry."

"Shh. Let's clean up and go and get comfortable." Jon moved to sit up, slipping out of Martin and supporting his weight as they both got to their feet, then slinging an arm around his waist and guiding him to the bathroom. He discarded his filthy shirt in the bath and gently cleaned Martin up, interspersing his touches with gentle kisses to his temple. Worry and shame twisted in his gut. He'd liked it too much, focused too much on himself. He needed to be more careful with his more horrible instincts.

Still, Martin leaned into his touch and gave him a wobbly smile, and let Jon usher him into the bedroom. Jon shed the rest of his clothes there and crawled under the duvet alongside him.

"You can tell me if it wasn't okay," he said softly. "I won't be upset. I love you."

Martin moved closer and Jon wrapped his arms around him, stroking his back again. He kissed Jon's cheek then shook his head.

"I'm a little, uh… a little overwhelmed. But it really was great. I- I really like being talked to like that." He huffed. "Why do you think I fancied you so much in the first place?"

"Oh." Jon felt his cheeks heat. "Well. That's good." He felt Martin relaxing more under his hands and drew him in closer, pressing kisses to his face. "I'm glad. I, um. Enjoyed it too."

"So I really was good?"

"Oh, Martin," Jon said, and kissed him as tenderly as he knew how. "You're _perfect_." And he was, in all the ways Jon had once found irritating and the ways he still did, and all the ways he had spent so long neglecting to notice. He would do anything for Martin.

"Maybe we should do it again then," Martin said with a knowing little smile, and licked his lips. Jon wheezed a laugh.

"You'll wear me out."

"Well I mean not right away, bloody hell. I'm already worn out." Martin turned his face into Jon's shoulder and laughed too. It was delightful. Jon combed his fingers through Martin's hair, letting himself tug just a little and listening to Martin gasp.

"Whatever you want."


End file.
